Lune Valley Hash House Harriers

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R*n 64 location

R*n 64 started from the On Inn - Silverdale Hotel, Silverdale.

Who ran 64? - data up to & including this r*n

Hash HandleHareHoundTotal
Tooth Fairy - Hare112
Bubbles164157
Cousin It13132
Cum Yak Yak11617
Forever Blowing104555
Fowl Scrotum11112
Fugitive Nipple01010
Lurch84250
Morticia83139
No More Cum73441
Off His Trolley033
Old Banger11213
Slackbladder93544
The Confessor41620

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Sunday 9th March 2003 at 11:00am

DaytimeR*n 64 »

Silverdale

As usual the hashers were a gaily coloured troupe dotted around a car park, this time in Silverdale.  Our hare for today was Tooth Fairy who looked faintly ghostly, and I looked round at the others to see if they'd noticed, or was this to be another spooky outing with Lurch exploring graveyards and Bubbles levitating over bogs and quicksands?  (I thought that 'cos we're at the coast and I've heard about apparitions in the mist and ghoulish things like that.)  I tried to forget I started this line of thought.

The lolloping Lurch lead us along a cliff path and then along a shingle beach to a promontory overlooking the fine sands, and we all followed faithfully.  I checked caves as we went along just in case a sea-monster was lurking.  Cleverly, Lurch just wanted to take us on a coastal exploration, but we all turned round when we heard a far off cry and dimly in the distance was Tooth Fairy beckoning us back cos this wasn't the way at all.  Still that was nice and we scrambled back.  From there we Rambos took in a tour of Silverdale, but somehow both Tooth Fairy and Bubbles started last and suddenly appeared in front.  Slackbladder said they'd taken a short cut but I was having the feeling that maybe Slackbladder couldn't see there was something going on here and it was, yep, spooky.  Bloody hell.  I was right.

It got worse.  We ran a devious route through the woods - very pleasant and lovely winter woodland - but at every turn Tooth Fairy would reappear.  And what was in that carrier bag?  Some said it was flour and true enough rather magically extra markers appeared whenever we got hopelessly lost.  Which we did rather often I thought.  I was feeling TF was looking after us and I shouldn't be so nervous at spooky things.  But surely she'd already done the run that morning to lay the trail and now she was accompanying us around.  A feat of stamina?  I couldn't help think of broomsticks, but hadn't seen one.  So was that magic floo powder in the carrier?  I think I have the answer there, oh yes, and you may congratulate me for figuring it out.

We paused at the first ancient monument with tremendous views over the eerie overcast bay, and then made our way through more fine limestone woodland to Arnside Tower.  Though I ran my fastest Cum Yak Yak never seemed far behind and I actually had to overtake her twice.  From the ancient ruined tower (yes, jokes about getting the builders back etc) Slackbladder set a fine pace with me in hot pursuit.  At a fork I saw Slackbladder go on and turned to see if the others were behind.  There suddenly was Tooth Fairy again, and she sprinkled flour up the hill path and sent me on.  Maybe this was actually her first time on the route I thought.  It was reassuring really to know that it was a magic path.  We ended up in an abandoned quarry and a tricky descent back to the road with No More Cum grabbing hopelessly for rotten branches to brake his fall.  At a brief rest I noticed that TF was still looking, well, not ghostly, more fairy like actually and no, you doubters, it wasn't the flour she'd been casting about that caused her spectral appearance you may be sure.  Oh no, too much evidence to the contrary.

We'd covered a good distance and Slackbladder, Lurch, Foul Scrotum and Bubbles had made fine work of route finding.  We climbed over from Waterslack and descended to make a circuit of a tarn.  With Lurch dependably in front I couldn't see the walkway in front that, under our combined weight, sagged and sank deeply under water.  So, we squelched around to our drink stop.

The Third Ancient Monument (TF's dad) graciously served us with much needed drinks while we waited for all to gather.  I noticed Slackbladder had set off for the run in his holiday wear of shorts and t-shirt, but it was flippin cold, and now we all shivered and it wasn't just 'cos it was a spooky outing.

There followed a moment of ignominy that I hope will be lost in the annals of our enterprises together, when TF asked we Rambos to take a lift onwards further along the route.  I hung back not wanting to get in but conceded and TF's nice Dad took us half a mile up the road.  The warmth and comfort in the car meant I had difficulty getting going again.  I was disorientated.  A friendly dog came to see us at a garden wall and I thought it was Harry and went to open the gate to let him out.  But Harry was back with Bubbles, elsewhere in this surreal landscape.  Slightly stunned by my misapprehension, I took the bugle to play tunes to myself as we raced through more fine woodland.  Nearing houses again I tried to give Slackbladder the bugle back just in case someone came out to complain.  Unfortunately he saw through my cunning plan, and I was foiled.

After some time trying to pick up the trail (until TF reappeared, how does she do that?), we all together arrived cold and expended for the down-downs, awarded to...

  • Hares: TF and Teethcliffe - excellent run, and devious
  • Lurch: leading us astray (I thought it was scenic)
  • Bubbles: leading Ron astray
  • Ron: being lead astray
  • Forever Blowing & Cousin It: for dissing the ex-GM
  • Forever Blowing: for playground behaviour and dissing the ex-GM again by calling out "beaten by a woman!"
  • Fugitive Nipple: for trying to unload the bugle on Slackbladder (his blowing was enjoyably tuneless today, don't you agree?)
  • GM: polluting the environment in a corner of the woods (...let's just say he no longer had the tissue hanky he started with) 
  • Nearly everybody (except the GM -cos he's deemed too high): for taking shortcuts
  • Ron:  Duly anointed, and hereinafter and forever more shall be called Off His Trolley

After a pint and food in the hostelry the world seemed normal again, but don't think this is the last of your paranormal adventures.  Me an' Edward will see you at the full-moon run next...

Fugitive Nipple

Write up by Fugitive Nipple

15th March 2003 at 5:53am